


YGOTP 2016: Conspireshipping

by DistractedDream



Series: Happiness is a Long Shot Universe [4]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: Altershipping, Angstshipping - Freeform, Bronzeshipping, Conspireshipping, Deathshipping, Fetishshipping, M/M, Necroshipping, Shadow Realm, Tendershipping, Thiefshipping, Trashshipping, eclipseshipping - Freeform, psychoshipping, smftd verse, stabshipping, stockholmshipping, tornshipping - Freeform, ygotp2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 12:10:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9123004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractedDream/pseuds/DistractedDream
Summary: This is the result of a 5-week long prompt on Tumblr hosted by YGOTP. The chapter titles represent the theme I choose for that week. All parts were originally posted to Tumblr and beta'ed by SerenityXStar.The entire work is set in a not-too-distant future in my "Happiness is a Long Shot" universe.





	1. Ice & Snow

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on Twitter @DistracteDream and on Tumblr @DistractedDream. Please leave kudos or comments if you liked this! I appreciate every single one.

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Ryou hunched lower behind a wall of bushes, furiously scooping snow into little balls and pushing them to Ishtar. Ishtar clearly didn’t believe in hiding or protecting himself as he towered above the shrubbery and launched snowball after snowball across the field of play. Ryou startled as a snowball burst against the greenery to his left.

“Ryou Bakura, stand up and take your hits like a man!”

Bakura’s voice taunted him from his position behind a snow bank. Ishtar answered Bakura with a playful growl, only to receive a snowball to the stomach from Marik. Their opponents high-fived each other and ducked as Ishtar fired a rapid succession of snow their way.

“Damn it!” Ishtar crouched down next to Ryou, his spiky golden hair still visible above the branches. He grinned ferally, the faux-battle exciting him. Ryou supposed he should have realized what would happen when he suggested a snowball fight. They’d paired off immediately, searching for a location to provide cover without being too far to land hits. Ryou had found the bushes and Bakura had cussed when that left Marik and him the snow bank and trees. Despite Marik’s constant complaining about the cold, he had gotten as into the fight as the rest. All their faces were flushed and they were each covered in snow, but none of them would give up. Marik and Bakura were sneakier in their attacks and therefore, made more hits, which is why Ryou was currently hiding. It worked well enough with Ishtar throwing and Ryou prepping the snowballs, enabling them to fire at their targets more often.

“We need a plan, _asadi_.” Ryou stretched up to kiss Ishtar’s cheek, returning to his position to peek through the bushes. He could hear the others talking, most likely using the lull to reinforce their barricade. Above them, the tree branches were weighted down with snow and that was when Ryou got his idea. His hands automatically started rolling the snow for Ishtar. “Do you think you can distract them?” His lover arched a brow in question at him. “I’m going to try to get behind them. See that branch?” Ryou shifted so Ishtar could look through his viewing spot. “Be a shame if something knocked all that snow off,” he explained, grinning as sweetly as ever.

Ishtar chuckled and caught Ryou’s chin. “My devious little mouse.” Their kiss was shorter than either would have liked, Ishtar’s teeth scraping over Ryou’s lip as they pulled away. Ishtar carefully moved the snowball stockpile to one end of shrubs as Ryou slunk to the opposite end. They would have to wait until Marik and Bakura began their next attack and Ryou’s thighs trembled with excess energy as he stayed in position. Thankfully, Ishtar’s patience ran out first and he stood up once more. “Stop fucking back there and fight me!”

Marik’s head popped up, straightening his hat, blond strands pressed down over his scarf and coat. “We were not! It’s too damn cold for that!”

“Maybe for you,” Bakura grumbled. He was greeted by a snowball to the face when he lifted his head. “Fuck!” The former spirit wiped the snow from his eyes as Marik watched, hiding his laughter behind his gloved hand. “You’re a dead man, Ishtar!” Bakura elbowed Marik as he gathered his return volley. “Come on and help me! Avenge my honor!”

The Egyptian lost his composure at that, cackling, only to receive a snowball upside his head from his twin and another to the crotch from his boyfriend. “Hey! Heeeey! That’s cold!” As the two teammates started bickering, throwing as much snow at each other as at Ishtar, and getting hit with twice as much from Ishtar’s focused tosses, Ryou bolted from behind the bushes. He stayed low to the ground, letting his hair help camouflage his movements. He didn’t straighten until he was hidden by one of the trees near Bakura and Marik’s position. He dashed to another just as Bakura’s attention shifted.

“Ryyyyyyyyouuuuuuuu,” he called. “Oh, Ryouuuuuuu. Come out and play with us.” His eyes narrowed, searching through the branches of the bushes to find Ryou’s hiding spot. Marik dropped lower behind the snow bank and huddled next to Bakura, his eyes on Ishtar. “This was your idea. Not afraid of a little snow, are you?”

“No, are you?” Ryou inquired as he stepped from behind the tree. Both men turned to Ryou in complete surprise, Marik’s eyes wide, Bakura’s mouth opening for a sassy retort as Ryou reached up to jostle the snow-filled branch over their heads. The snow came down directly on them, Marik screeching as the snow went down the inside of his coat, Bakura cursing at yet another face full of snow. Ryou zipped between their still-shocked bodies, hopping over the snow bank. He wasn’t quite quick enough, tripping as Bakura’s fingers snatched at his ankle.  
  
He made it a few more feet before Bakura landed on his back and tackled him to the ground. Ryou thrashed around in the snow, giggling as he half-heartedly tried to get free. A snowball slammed into Bakura’s side, deflecting his attention. “Marik, you ass! Don’t throw them at me!” A snowball to his other side distracted him again, hunching lower over Ryou’s body as he pinned him into the snow. “Very tricky. I’m almost proud of you,” Bakura teased with a smirk.

Ryou squirmed under him, shivering more from the groan his movements pulled from Bakura than the snow surrounding him. “Ready to give up then?” Ryou asked, mocha-colored eyes shining brightly.

“When have you ever known me to give up?” Bakura dipped his head down, lips connecting with Ryou’s for a second before he was knocked off. “Bloody fucking hell!” Ryou ended up with Ishtar stretched across his stomach as the taller man held Bakura down in the snow. Ryou swatted at Ishtar’s ass, none of them watching as Marik approached and dropped snowballs on each of their heads.  
  
As one, Ishtar and Bakura grabbed Marik around his legs, bringing him down into the snow with them. Marik squealed as he fell, trying to kick free. “No! No, you bastards! It’s too cold!” He whined, Bakura and Ishtar each draping themselves over Marik’s arms to keep him in the snow. “It’s cooooooold!” Ryou crawled out from under Ishtar and pulled himself over Marik’s core, helping hold him down. Together, the three of them ground against Marik’s body, Marik’s whining coming to an abrupt stop. Ryou’s white hair fell around them, smiling when Ishtar and Bakura nudged Marik’s scarf down to mouth at his throat.  
  
Marik stilled and his eyes rolled back, gloved hands grabbing at the other two rather than pushing them away. Ryou gathered his hair back and tilted his head to drag his lips against Marik’s, earning a quiet whimper from him. “Let’s go home. We can warm up and I’ll fix hot cocoa for everyone.” Marik nodded and tried to sit up even while Bakura and Ishtar continued their attentions to his neck.

Ryou got to his feet first, brushing most of the snow off. Neither Ishtar nor Bakura had made any move to let Marik up or stop kissing his neck. Ryou shook his head. “Well, I’m going home to get out of these wet clothes. Anyone else?” At that, Ishtar scrambled to his feet with a grin, looping his arm over Ryou’s shoulders.  
  
Bakura was slower getting to his feet, holding out his hand to help Marik up. “But who won?”

“Who…? We won, _djinni_. Obviously,” Ishtar sneered, walking ahead with Ryou.

He started to contest that answer, but Marik laughed and shook his head. “They beat us.” He took Bakura’s hand as they strolled behind the other two, leaning in to kiss his silver hair. “It’s okay. I’ll let you ‘win’ later tonight.”

Ryou tucked himself closer into Ishtar’s side, happy to listen to their banter echo through the quiet snowy streets back to their flat. Maybe the snowball fight had been a good idea after all.


	2. Cast a Spell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This is the chapter wherein this fic earns the explicit rating. It's the only explicit chapter too.

Ryou and Ishtar, still naked from their post-snowball fight shower, cleared and prepared the living room as Bakura and Marik showered. It had only been luck that Ishtar and, therefore Ryou, beat them to the bathroom. Ishtar had kept Ryou under the hot water until the rosiness from their snowball fight was replaced by a flush from the warmth. Now Bakura and Marik were trying to eke out the last bit of hot water. Ishtar chuckled. They could hear Marik bitching while the hot water ran out. Ryou kissed Ishtar’s cheek as he placed white, red, and black candles around the room.

“Think he’s going to go for this?”

Ishtar snorted. “Being the center of attention while we play with him? I heard those noises he was making in the snow. Yeah, he’ll go for it.” He handed Ryou a lighter, using a second one to help with the candles. “Does the _djinni_ know?”

Ryou nodded in response. “He helped write the spell. He’s got more experience with shadow magic.” Ishtar paused in lighting a candle, looking over his shoulder at Ryou. With the curtains drawn, the soft candlelight made Ryou’s skin glow with warm color. “I know, but I need you to ground the spell. Ground Marik, really.” He lifted one delicate shoulder. “The spell is as much about you as him.”

The blonde frowned. “I’m all for helping _nafsi_ but if this works…” He scratched at the back of his head before helping Ryou chalk out a circle on the bare floor. Together, they joined the circle which covered most of the floor.

“When it works,” Ryou started softly, “it will help Marik heal.”

“Help me heal what?” Marik hesitated at the edge of the room, Bakura drying his hair behind him. The Egyptian’s brow furrowed as he took in their rearranged living room which now glowed with candlelight. “Why are you making a mess of my clean floor?”

Ishtar’s and Ryou’s eyes met across the circle before lifting them to look at Marik. Bakura bumped into his shoulder and tossed the wet towel down. “We just want to help you.” He brushed past him, still nude, sitting on the floor.

“With what?” Marik’s lavender eyes narrowed, noting that the three of them formed a triangle around the circle. “I thought we were going to have hot cocoa and watch bad movies and fuck.”

“Funny you mention that.” Ryou reached out his hand for Marik’s, drawing him into the center of the circle. “Bakura and I have been talking and we know your birthday is coming.” Marik’s shoulders visibly tensed and his eyes flicked to Ishtar. “And we understand that you don’t have good memories of that day. So we thought we could do something about that. You might want to take those shorts off.”

“Your initiation invoked shadow magic. Whether it was meant to or not, it did.” Bakura tipped his head to Ishtar. “We wouldn’t have him otherwise. No therapist is gonna understand that. But we do.”

Ishtar watched Marik. He felt the tension in his shoulders and spine as if it were his own. They were separate, they’d always been separate but the initiation was where they were joined even still. “If we can separate the shadow magic from your scars, maybe you can find peace.”

“I am peaceful. I am so fucking peaceful right now,” Marik declared, fists clenched at his sides. “You think you can just draw out shadow magic? What will you do with it?” He shifted, stretching his back, scars feeling tight after his shower. “You don’t need me naked to get to my scars.”

“No, we don’t.” Ryou shrugged off the concern. “But we need a lot of power to extricate the shadow magic without using shadow magic ourselves. We, ‘Kura and I, thought we could use sex magic. We wrote the spell. Ishtar will be our grounding agent and keep us focused.”

Marik’s gaze softened as he looked at each of them. “You really want to help me? I’ve lived with this for years and now you want to get rid of it?”

“The darkness isn’t you, love.” Bakura rested his chin on his knee. “You were born to fulfill a duty, one that no longer exists, but you were destined for more than that. You can’t hide the sunlight in a dead man’s house. Let’s get rid of the shadows. It’s time.”

“It’s beyond time,” Ishtar murmured and sat straighter. “I’m ready.”

“Marik?” Ryou smiled sweetly, hopeful. “Do you want to do this?”

The man turned his head, catching the tips of his wing scars out of the corner of his eye. “Will they disappear?” He wished his voice wouldn’t tremble, but so much had been sprung on him.

Ryou’s smile faded some. “I’m sorry. It only takes the embedded magic out. You’d still have them.”

“But they shouldn’t bother you as much,” Bakura added.

Marik opened his mouth to protest, but Ishtar cut him off. “They do. We all know they do.”

He stood silently after that. The scars did bother him. And while his nightmares had been less since he and Ryou had started sharing a bed in the tomb, they still came and brought with them a feeling that his scars were on fire, burning down through his flesh to his soul. With a deep inhale, Marik’s fingers slipped into the waistband of his boxers, pushing the material off his hips. “I want to stop hurting. That’s all I’ve ever really wanted.”

“You will.” Ryou pulled a small bowl of half melted snow and a bottle of lube from behind his back, handing the lubrication to Bakura. “You can sit or kneel if you want. The invocation isn’t too long but I think everything will work better if you’re comfy.”

The blonde Egyptian sank to his knees, sitting back on his heels and giving them a nod. Ryou’s voice began a low intonation, words humming in the air with power. Marik had always been impressed by Ryou’s _heka_. Part of him suspected that he wouldn’t have been able to pull Bakura from the Shadow Realm at all without Ryou’s help. He lifted and lowered his shoulders, rolling his spine to ease the tightness of the drying scars. Marik’s pale brow arched as Ryou held his hand over the mostly melted bowl of snow to bless it. He nodded at Bakura who repeated the blessing over the bottle of lube and Marik almost laughed aloud.

It was Ishtar who caught the twitch of his lips. It was Ishtar who first touched him to quiet the amusement. Ishtar, who sent a charge dancing across his nerves to where it settled into a warmth in his back. Marik’s mouth dropped open as he closed his eyes. Ryou’s gentle hands caressed his face. Like Ishtar’s touch, it sent electricity skipping over his skin to his scars. Bakura’s palm over his heart felt like being shocked back to life, gasping as the power went through his chest to the damaged flesh of his back.

He blinked his eyes open. They all knelt around him, hands still for a heartbeat. Ryou’s tender tone filled the room. “Through everything, focus on letting go of the darkness. Let it unwind from your soul and bleed out of your scars. Picture it. We’re more powerful than the shadows.” A choked noise escaped Marik and then their hands moved. Marik grabbed at them, fingers tight on whatever pieces of them he could find. He could feel the _heka_ traveling from their hands through his body, trembling as even his fingers and toes buzzed with the magic. It was heady, a power trip that reminded him of the Rod, and he let his head fall back, moaning as they attacked his throat and shoulders with their mouths.

Marik didn’t care if it was the magic or the three naked men pressed against him. He was hard. Hard and aching and he dug his nails into skin, Ryou’s and Ishtar’s, with need. On either side, they purred their approval, Bakura chuckling against the hollow of his throat. “Open your knees for me, love.” Marik heard the click of the bottle cap and swallowed as he shifted to follow Bakura’s direction. He was ready for the cold but as Bakura’s fingers slid over his sensitive skin, Marik gasped at the warmth, dropping his head to Bakura’s shoulder. Ishtar’s and Ryou’s hands continued stroking his body. In the back of his mind, he could recognize that they were avoiding his scars, but then Bakura slipped a finger into him and then another and Marik forgot to be worried about his scars.

Yet again, it was Ishtar who brought him back to what they were doing, taking Marik’s hand and curling it over Ishtar’s shoulder, fingertips brushing over the tips of the wings. “Stay here. Can’t go mindless yet. Remember these.” Ishtar kissed a path up Marik’s arm. “Remember how they ached when they were wrapped. Remember how we bit our lip bloody when the wrappings were changed.” Marik lifted his head from Bakura, meeting Ishtar’s darker eyes. Ishtar tilted his head to lick at Marik’s lip, right over where they’d almost bitten a hole in the skin. “Remember how the knife burned going in and we couldn’t tell if the pain was from being burnt or being cut.”

His words changed the warmth that had worked into his scars. They felt as though they were on fire and Marik opened his mouth, to protest, to beg, to scream, he didn’t know, and at that moment, Bakura hooked his fingers forward, stroking his gland, and Marik tensed, the hot rush of blood to his groin knocking the air from his lungs. Bakura’s clean hand brushed Marik’s hair away from his face. “He’s ready.”

One by one, they kissed him. The taste of their lips and tongue melded into one in Marik’s mouth and he whined as Bakura drew his fingers out, dragging them over Marik’s balls and shaft. They moved and Marik forced himself to focus on the pain in his scars while they repositioned themselves. The heat was still present and Marik’s throat tightened in realization that it would probably get worse as the two magics fought against each other.

Bakura knelt behind Marik, using his knees to push Marik’s stance wider. Ryou cupped the back of Marik’s neck and guided him down to all fours, pulling the blonde’s hair away from his shoulders and back. Ishtar slipped under Marik, face under his crotch, legs spread on either side of Ryou’s knees. Ryou caught Marik’s chin, making him look up. “Don’t forget what I said. Picture the shadows draining from your scars. We can do this. We love you.” Ryou leaned down to kiss Marik’s head, Bakura’s kiss falling on the unmarked portion of his lower back, Ishtar’s hitting below his navel.

It was almost overwhelming, the power in their love, in their _heka_ in the air, countered by the shadows and fire in his scars. “Please,” he whispered. Ryou nodded and for the second time, Marik felt his heart stutter. Bakura pushed into his ass, Ryou between his lips, and Ishtar’s mouth wrapped around his cock. Marik would have screamed in pleasure but the best he managed was a moan around Ryou’s dick. Each roll of Bakura’s hips nudged Marik forward onto Ryou’s cock and down into Ishtar’s mouth. On a normal night, Marik could have let his mind go blank and lose himself to the physical sensations.

Tonight though, as the pleasure built up warm in his veins, his back burned. He closed his eyes, falling into the rhythm Bakura set with his thrusts, breathing through his nose as he envisioned the inky shadow magic being pushed from his scars. Marik whimpered around Ryou when it felt as though one of his scars cracked and bled. Ryou murmured calming words and scooped the melted snow from the bowl. The cold pure snow water sprinkled down on his skin and Marik tensed, his cry choked. Their hands smoothed over his skin, Bakura’s movements shallow as Marik’s muscles tightened around him. Ryou’s fingers curled into Marik’s hair, holding his head on his cock, as more water droplets hit his back.  
  
Tears welled in Marik’s eyes. It felt like his scars were reopening, the heat and the pain almost unbearable. Then the ice cold water would hit his skin, giving him a sharper flash of pain that soothed away the burning. He wasn’t a masochist and if Ishtar hadn’t been dedicated to working his cock, Marik doubted he’d stay hard, no matter how good Bakura’s cock felt in his ass.  
  
Ryou’s thumb was cold from the water when he wiped away the tears on Marik’s cheeks. “I kn-know.” He stumbled over the words and Marik lifted his eyes. Ryou’s face was flushed, hair swinging around his eyes. His dick was warm and heavy on Marik’s tongue and he swallowed as the tip hit the back of his throat. “D-doing so well-ell.”

“Ryou,” Bakura grunted, fingers grasping at Marik’s hips. His mahogany eyes met Ryou’s over Marik’s body and Ryou nodded. He reached down and tapped Ishtar’s thigh, a signal for him to lift his hips so Ryou could wrap his fingers around his dick. Ishtar groaned around Marik’s cock at the attention and Marik whined around Ryou’s cock in response. Their motions sped up. Marik pushed forward and down from Bakura’s thrusts, pushing his cock deeper into Ishtar’s throat even as he choked on Ryou’s dick. Bakura’s voice sounded rough and breathless behind him. “Cum for us, love.”

He would never admit it, but Marik squeaked, actually squeaked, eyes rolling back as his orgasm flooded his senses, bucking down into Ishtar’s mouth. Marik pulled off Ryou’s cock, drawing deep breaths into his lungs, head falling forward to catch Ishtar sliding out from under him. Marik’s heart raced as he tried to remember how to breathe, his back on fire even as Bakura pulled out. Marik whined, wanting to look back at him, to ask why he stopped, but his throat was raw from blowing Ryou and Ryou’s fingers in his hair held Marik’s head down.

The first splash of cum over his scars left him gasping, fingers curling into fists on the floor. The second a few moments later flared up the burning of his skin and he cried out brokenly. He thought the third would be the last, thankful tears clouding his vision, panting through the pain. And then he felt Ishtar lean over his back, Marik’s own cum falling from his lips, and Marik screamed as the fire in his scars sparked once more before fading completely, leaving him only feeling the warmth from their bodies and the stickiness of their jizz.

He couldn’t hold himself up anymore. He couldn’t do anything more than breathe and let relieved tears streak down his cheeks as he dropped to his elbows, forehead on the floor. Marik didn’t move as they all stroked his back, rubbing the cum into his skin. He was too exhausted to even complain. Ryou ended the spell and broke the circle and still Marik didn’t lift his head from the floor. Bakura and Ryou extinguished most of the candles around the room, leaving Ishtar petting over Marik’s bent head and still he wouldn’t move.

It didn’t hurt. His ass and throat and dick were sore, but his back, his back, for the first time since the first cut of his initiation, it didn’t hurt. There was no ache, no tightness, no painful stretch when he moved his shoulders. It was a reality Marik hadn’t experienced since he was ten and his brain couldn’t process it.

“ _Nafsi_ ,” Ishtar called to him, arms wrapping under Marik’s shoulders and lifting him from the floor. “We all need a shower.” Marik didn’t answer, leaning heavily on Ishtar as he stood. Ryou slipped ahead to turn on the lights for Bakura and then back to blow out the last few candles as he and Ishtar guiding Marik into the bathroom. There was barely any warm water, but they all managed to squeeze in the shower, taking turns to prop up Marik as they washed. Clean and dry, Bakura led them all to his and Marik’s bed, arranging the pillows for Marik to lay on his stomach. Ishtar poured oil over Marik’s back and Marik sighed in delight. Together, they massaged it into his skin and for once, Marik didn’t tense or flinch at someone touching his scars.

Marik was already half asleep when they dogpiled around him, limbs flung over him and each other. A quiet “thank you” fell from Marik’s lips but then he was already asleep, unaware if they heard before they each fell asleep themselves, one after the other.


	3. Into the Dark

For months after, Ryou would blame himself for not realizing the shadow magic released from Marik’s scars would need a new vessel.

Marik shivered as he started to awaken. His side was chilled and he shifted to snuggle closer to where Bakura had laid down next to him. He shifted more, frowning and opening his eyes when he didn’t feel the press of Bakura’s skin against his own. Nothing but black sheets met his vision. Marik lifted his head to glance at Ryou and Ishtar still asleep on his other side. His brows still creased, he tried to look down the hallway, searching for light to show where Bakura would be. Only an inky darkness could be seen.

He knew there was something wrong in this, even as his brain tried to rationalize it. Bakura was probably in the bathroom and Marik simply couldn’t see the light under the door. Bakura went out to the bakery for a surprise breakfast. Bakura… Bakura never got out of bed without kissing Marik. Careful not to disturb the others, Marik slipped out of the bed, rummaging through a drawer for a pair of boxers and tugging them on before stepping into the hall. “Bakura?” He pulled their bedroom door shut behind him. “Bakura?” The shadows in the hallway were deeper, thicker than in the bedroom. A coldness seeped into Marik’s skin. He pressed his hand to the wall as he progressed to the living room, eyes straining in the dark. He knew these shadows and yet he couldn’t admit it to himself. “Bakura?”

No one had moved the furniture back after the spell. If Marik hadn’t grown up underground, he doubted his eyes would have adjusted enough to pierce the black. Sitting in the middle of their broken circle, Bakura watched Marik approach, his grin sharpening, a predator luring his prey. “Marik.”

The Egyptian felt for the light switch, not surprised when several clicks still didn’t result in illumination. He stepped through the dark, focusing on the lighter patch in the shadows he hoped was Bakura. “Why didn’t you call for me when the light went out? Any of us? Did you leave your flashlight in the bedroom?” There was a reason, there had to be a mundane reason on why Bakura, who had been terrified of the dark since returning from the Shadow Realm, would be sitting in a pitch black room. Marik’s head refused to accept anything more than an ordinary reason, though his heart gave a painful lurch and he knew.

Bakura chuckled, his voice deeper, rougher somehow in the shadows. “You sound worried. For me? Your heart was always too pure.” Marik heard something drag over the floor and he grimaced, unsure if he’d rather the noise be Bakura’s nails or a knife. “Why should I be frightened of darkness when I am the very darkness itself?”

With those words, Marik’s legs wavered. They were back on the KaibaCorp blimp, years past, and he’d been burned out of Ryou’s mind and Bakura was burning, burning and disappearing in the smoke and he’d said… Marik swallowed thickly, the present rushing back to him. “You aren’t. You aren’t. Zorc was defeated. He’s not part of you anymore.”

“So sure, are we?” That scraping sound made Marik cover his ears. “What did you think would happen when the shadows were released from your scars? Are you so stupid you think love would save the day?” Bakura tipped his head back and laughed loud enough for the noise to echo in the apartment.

Marik’s heart stuck in his throat as he dropped to his knees. “Shut, shut up! We didn’t bring you back!”  
  
Icy fingers lashed out and grabbed Marik’s throat, a dagger sharp nail caressing his jaw. “No, but you let me go.” The grip on his throat squeezed and Marik’s fingers scrambled to loosen the hold. “In your own selfishness, you condemned me back to the shadows. Where I belong.”

A choked whimper snuck out of Marik’s mouth as he tried to push Bakura’s shoulder. “I didn’t ask for it, but yes! Yes! I lived with constant pain for over ten years; yes I took the first chance at ending it. Ten years, Bakura!”

Bakura, or the shadows controlling him, lunged for Marik, his head slamming back onto the floor, pinning him by his neck. He leaned down into Marik’s face, silver hair falling around them. “Three thousand years! Three thousand years of listening to the screams of my family as they were melted, melted, Marik, not burned, melted. You don’t know pain. You know games and fear and a little boy’s nightmares. You know NOTHING!” His hold on Marik’s throat tightened, screaming in his face. It was enough to make Marik fight, to push at his chest, to pull his hair, to kick his legs, anything to try to dislodge the darkness masquerading as his lover.

The sudden release of the pressure at his throat was accompanied by a soft wash of golden light from the edge of the room. Marik pushed himself to his feet, coughing into his elbow, as he watched Ishtar tackle the shadow Bakura to the floor. Ryou stepped beside him, one of their black candles in his hand. “Fuck,” Ryou whispered and Marik could only nod as they waited for Ishtar to get control over Bakura. They both hissed as a slap from Ishtar forced Bakura’s face to the light, his irises a vicious red instead of the warm mahogany they knew. “Fuck.”

A crack resonated in the room as now the back of Bakura’s head met the floor. He growled at Ishtar, teeth bared. “Let him go.” Ishtar crouched down closer to Bakura’s face, seemingly unaffected by the shadows. “He doesn’t belong to you anymore. Let him go. He’s ours.” Bakura laughed, the sound distorted. Marik threaded his fingers into Ryou’s, the other murmuring as he tugged Marik closer with him. “You can’t have him. Not now. Not again,” Ishtar growled. “He’s ours!”

Black wax from Ryou’s candle dripped onto Bakura’s forehead, making him flinch, confused red eyes blinking up at him. “…Ryou? Ishtar?” Marik fell to his knees next to Bakura’s head, stroking his hair back from his face. “Marik? Marik, it’s dark. Marik, the shadows… It’s dark, it’s so dark.” Marik thought he would still be drained from the ritual, but fresh tears gathered in his eyes as he pet Bakura.

“It’ll be okay,” Ryou assured him, reaching down to touch his cheek. “Go to sleep, ‘Kura. We’ll make sure you have light when you wake up. Just go to sleep.” Bakura’s body tensed as though he might struggle again before relaxing, his eyes closing and a tired sigh leaving his lips. Marik fell back on his ass, staring up at Ryou as he ran his fingers through Ishtar’s golden hair. “Do you want a pillow?”

Ishtar shook his head, finally sliding off Bakura and laying down on the floor on his stomach. “Just make sure he doesn’t wake up and kill me.” Ryou’s hand smoothed over Ishtar’s spikes, repeating the soft words he’d spoken to Bakura before. Ishtar’s back lifted as he inhaled deeply, the breath leaving him slowly as Ryou’s enchantment worked, sending him to sleep as well.

“Wh-” Marik’s voice broke, sending him into another coughing fit. “What the fuck… What did you do?”

“We can’t slip into the Shadow Realm. Maybe once upon a time, we could, but not now.  Ishtar can. He was made from shadow magic.” He lit another candle, setting them into the holders used for Marik’s ritual. “If the shadows think they can pull 'Kura into the dark again, they’ve underestimated who the real darkness is.” Ryou turned to their bookcase, examining the spines.

“Ishtar.”

Ryou selected a book and nodded, padding over to the sofa. He curled his legs under him and patted the cushions next to him. “Come here. I’ll read to you while they sleep. This might take awhile.”


	4. Sleep

Marik curled against Ryou as he read aloud. His eyes never left Bakura’s and Ishtar’s sleeping forms on the floor in front of them. His lids were heavy, but he didn’t dare let himself fall into slumber. Ryou’s voice was comforting and Marik wondered once more how he seemed to exist on so little sleep.

“How did you know?”

Ryou marked his place in the book, kissing Marik’s hair. “ _Asadi_ had a nightmare. He said he was in his dreams again and the white unicorn had turned black. It… it was trying to kill the eagle. The landscape dissolved into shadows and the eagle and mouse disappeared, only leaving Bakura and him.”

“None of that makes sense.” Marik scowled. “Why can’t he have normal dreams?”

“What dreams are normal?” Ryou replied softly, fingers combing through Marik’s hair. “Ishtar knew enough to tell me that ‘Kura and he needed to sleep. So I put them to sleep.”

Marik’s eyes narrowed when he looked up at Ryou. “How much _heka_ do you actually have?”

A grin teased Ryou’s mouth as he opened the book again. “Enough.”

* * *

Ishtar screamed into the void of the Shadow Realm. “BAKURA! Bakura, you idiotic bastard! Stop hiding and face me!” His cloak whipped around his legs from the storm of his own fury. Everything they had worked for, the nearly normal life they’d built, and these fucking shadows thought they could steal it from him? Ishtar, not Bakura, was the shadows and they would bend to his will. “BAKURA!”

“You don’t even scream my name in bed, so why all the ruckus now?” Bakura’s reddened eyes almost glowed in the darkness as he appeared before Ishtar. “You’re either fearless or stupid. Probably both.” He patted Ishtar’s cheek, grinning. “It’s your other self’s fault, you know.”

“Marik. His name is Marik.” He tilted his chin up, away from that cold hand, not trusting yet that those nails wouldn’t go for his eyes.

“Which was your name once.”

“Not anymore.” His hand snapped out, grasping Bakura’s wrist and clenching until he could feel the bones grind together. “Let him go.”

Bakura growled, dissolving his arm into shadows to free himself. “Why should I? I have been the shadows’ for three millennia. Why should I finally be free?”

Ishtar moved closer, grabbing Bakura’s arm again. “You’ve done your penance and Zorc is dead. You no longer are the darkness. You haven’t been for years. You’re loved now.”

“Love?” Bakura laughed, catching a fistful of Ishtar’s cloak, the golden chains rattling. “Life isn’t a fucking movie. Love does not conquer all. Only children believe in that and we, evil bastard assholes like us, we didn’t have the luck to have childhoods.”

“Because we were never children. We were created by those damn Items but we aren’t ruled by them anymore. The shadows don’t answer to you, _djinni_.”

“If I had my Ring-”

Ishtar shook him. “But you don’t. It’s not yours. It was never yours. You belonged to it but now you belong to us.”

Bakura screeched at the insult to the Ring, his Ring. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Ishtar’s cloak wrapped around them, Ishtar’s arm encircling Bakura’s waist to hold him fast. “I am the darkness.” His own eyes shone in the gloaming. “The part of you that was shadows, the part that was Zorc, died when he did. I, however, was born of shadow magic and rage and pain and blood. I am the darkness now and you are just a pretender.” Bakura scoffed and squirmed in his embrace. Ishtar’s voice went velvet soft, seduction in the order he expected to be obeyed. “Release him and come into me.” The shadows comprising Bakura struggled, scratching at Ishtar’s shoulders and chest, hissing and cursing in Bakura’s voice. Ishtar didn’t budge. “He is ours. Let him go. Use me.” Bakura’s chest heaved as he drew air into his lungs, eyes jewel red and vacant. Ishtar caught his chin, tilting his face up, lips ghosting over Bakura’s. “You are ours, Bakura. Let the shadows be mine alone.”

* * *

Bakura stirred first, mahogany eyes blinking up at the ceiling. Marik dashed off the sofa to his side, pulling Bakura’s head into his lap, lavender eyes searching his face worriedly. “Bakura? Is it… What happened?” Bakura’s fingers lifted, touching the light bruises on Marik’s throat.

“The shadows…”

Ryou knelt as Ishtar’s side, rubbing his shoulder away from his scars. “They’re gone, aren’t they?” Bakura nodded, tearing his eyes from Marik’s to look at the other two next to him. Ishtar groaned without waking. “They’re in his scars now.” Bakura nodded again because he didn’t trust his voice. Ryou’s jaw clenched, eyes watery, waiting for Ishtar to awaken.

It had taken all three of them, but they eventually got Ishtar moved into his bed. Ryou refused to leave his side, smiling softly at Bakura or Marik when they would come in. The apartment fell quiet as Bakura and then Marik went to bed, Ryou still sitting vigil as Ishtar slept.

As the room began to lighten with the next day’s dawn, Ishtar lifted his head, propping himself on his elbows and staring at the pillows. Ryou’s hand hovered over his back. “ _Asadi_?”

“Don’t touch them yet.” Ishtar cleared his throat, trying to generate some saliva to coat his dry tongue. “They burn.” He groaned and rubbed his eyes. “Where’s Bakura?”

“Sleeping. Marik is too.” Ryou gently ran his palm over Ishtar’s hair. He reached for a glass of water with his other hand, offering it. “How were your dreams?”

Ishtar drank until the glass was empty and handed it back. “Dark. Don’t suppose that’s a surprise.” He sighed and rested his head on the pillows. “I feel like I made the negative confessions for all of us and wasn’t found worthy of Aaru or Ammit’s jaws.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in the gods, love.” Ryou slipped from the bed to open the curtains, brow furrowing at how even in the early morning light, the shadows clung to his scars.

“I don’t. I, I didn’t.” Ishtar rolled to his back, wincing at the contact and forcing himself to lay still. His eyes opened to the ceiling and Ryou sighed in relief that they were still his favorite shade of amethyst. “After I cast Bakura out of the Shadow Realm, the darkness and I merged. It wants… It wants pain. I can give it that.”

“Your scars.” Ryou settled on the bed next to Ishtar’s hip.

“Yeah. I’m not Marik. I like when they hurt.” He lifted one shoulder. “Didn’t expect them to hurt this much though.” He lifted his hand to trace the discoloration under Ryou’s eyes. “You haven’t slept. Come here.” Ishtar opened his arms, inviting Ryou closer. The other man hesitated. “You won’t hurt me or my scars. Come here, _fa’r_.”

Ryou’s white hair spread over his back as he laid his head down on Ishtar’s chest. “I was scared we would lose you.”

“Never,” Ishtar whispered into his hair. “I control the shadows, not the other way around.” He kissed his hair much the way Ryou had kissed Marik’s the other night. “Sleep. Sleep, my brave little _fa’r_.”


	5. Lost & Found

All of them slept until the early evening as the sun was setting and the lights of the city were coming on. Marik awoke first, fixing tea and pulling together a light meal as Ishtar joined him in the kitchen. Ishtar leaned into his near-twin while he worked, grinning to hear Marik humming. “You’re happy.”

Marik kissed his cheek and nodded, reaching for the kettle as it started to whistle. “I am, thanks to you. And Ryou. And Bakura. But especially you after last night. First morning in ten years that my back didn’t hurt when I woke up.” He smiled at Ryou who fell into a seat at the table, only his manners keeping him from putting his head down on the table. Marik poured Ryou’s tea and pushed it to Ishtar to fix with milk and sugar.

“Thanks,” Ryou murmured as he took the mug from Ishtar. “It hasn’t been morning for several hours, Marik.” He sipped his tea, Ishtar pulling another chair closer to lean into Ryou now.

The Egyptian waved his hand. “You know what I mean.”

“What do you mean?” Bakura rubbed at his face, propping his hip against the table. Marik beamed at him and poured a cup of coffee he’d prepared just for Bakura. He grunted his appreciation as he sat with the others.

“Ryou was pointing out that we’re all lazy bitches.” Ishtar’s words were muffled in Ryou’s hair, making the Brit twitch as his breath tickled against his neck. “I want to go on a walk.”

Marik set plates down in front of them, going back to the kitchen for Bakura’s and his. “It’s almost night. You want to go now?” Ishtar nodded, poking at his plate with his fork. Bakura and Ryou tucked into the meal at least. “The snow probably didn’t melt much today. If you want to, I’ll go with you.” Marik shrugged. “After I eat.” Bakura and Ryou made general noises of agreement around their food, their plates quickly cleaned. Marik finished and frowned to see Ishtar hadn’t eaten much. “I’ll save this for you for later.” He received a soft smile before Ishtar and Bakura disappeared to get dressed, Ryou helping Marik clean up. “Do you think he’s okay?”

Ryou shook his head. “No, but I think he will be. He’s really strong. He had to be.” Marik sniffed and Ryou bumped his hip into him. “Worrying won’t help things. Let’s get changed or else they’ll leave us behind.”

* * *

The four men trudged down the slushy sidewalks to the park where they’d had their earlier snowball fight. To Ryou, the difference between the carefree fun and the weight of their spell and its effects felt like ages apart. His _heka_ was drained and he prayed he wouldn’t need to use it for awhile.

Marik held Bakura’s hand as they walked, as though he was afraid to let him go. They had almost lost him to the shadows, so in a way his fear wasn’t unreasonable. Bakura tolerated the clinging, even squeezing Marik’s fingers in reassurance. He was still tired, his energy zapped from the spell for Marik and then stolen when the shadows left him. Bakura wrinkled his nose and pulled Marik’s hand to his lips, brushing a thankful kiss over his knuckles.

Ishtar bounced between all of them, alternately leaning on them but always returning to the front of their group, only halting once he found a large patch of undisturbed snow. The streetlights gave everything a warm glow and he nodded to himself as he tugged off his scarf and coat.

Ryou scooped up the items, looking at Marik and Bakura. “ _Asadi_? You’ll catch a cold.”

His shirt landed where the other pieces had been, leaving his torso bare. A small sound escaped Marik when he saw the darkened scars, Bakura turning his body as though he would protect Marik if needed. Ryou picked up the shirt as well. Ishtar turned to face them and spread his arms out. “I won’t.” With that, he dropped back into the snow, sighing in relief at the coldness against his burning scars.

His clothes fell from Ryou’s arms as they all rushed forward only to find Ishtar with a peaceful smile on his face. “You ass,” Bakura grumbled. “Scared us to death just to make fucking snow angels.” He didn’t notice as a shadow curled around his ankle until he was sent sprawling into the snow next to Ishtar. “Motherfucker!” Ishtar only chuckled, sending dark tendrils out to caress Ryou and Marik and coerce them into the snow as well.

“This is the stupidest…” Marik fussed as he stretched out in the snow. “Do we really have to do this? It’s cold!” He rolled closer to Bakura, tucking himself against his side much as he’d wanted to do in bed before finding Bakura gone.

Ryou’s fingers touched Ishtar’s cheek, propping himself on his elbow to look down at him. “Is this how it’s going to be now? You can use shadow magic without an Item?” The shadows moved around them, blanketing them from sight, the darkness playing with the light. Bakura’s breath hissed over his teeth, but Ishtar kept the shadows from completely closing over them, ensuring Bakura would always have some light.

“I, I think so.” Ishtar watched Ryou’s hair fade from a light grey in the shadows to a warm orange in the street lights and back once more. “Does it bother you?”  
  
The Brit shook his head, dropping down to kiss him once before laying his cool cheek on Ishtar’s warmer bare shoulder. Eventually even Marik’s complaining stopped and Ryou rolled to his back, catching glimpses of starlight between the shadows and light pollution. His voice started soft, the tenor’s half-remembered hymn drifting over them, Bakura’s rougher baritone joining in the parts he knew from Ryou’s memories.  
  
 _“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound_  
That saved a wretch like me.  
I once was lost but now I’m found.  
Was blind but now I see.  
‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear  
And grace my fears relieved.  
How precious did that grace appear  
The hour I first believed.”

Ishtar sighed as Ryou’s last note faded. “That’s what it feels like. Just like that. Like even through the shadows, I’ve been found. I found who I am, what I am.” He pulled the shadows back into himself, the lights glowing brighter without them. Bakura nodded in agreement next to him. “I’m not lost anymore.”

“None of us are,” Marik offered. “But I’m going to freeze to death if we don’t get out of this snow.” They laughed at him, the noise light and happy in the city’s snow-draped hush.

Ryou was the first to his feet again. “Come on.” He held out his hands for them. “Let’s go home. I’ll fix hot cocoa for real this time.”


End file.
